The Opened Door
by Ms. Usui
Summary: There were seven distinct sigils that heralded the end of days. Throughout history's most recent years, two nations come face to face with the warnings. Oneshot. R&R.


**Opening notes;**

First, I don't own Hetalia or the... Bible, I guess.

Second, this is not an accurate representation of actual countries or armed forces, although country names are used.

Third, this isn't meant to offend anyone or induce discussions/arguements. Really.

I wanted to try something new, and honestly I am so intrigued by Christian theology (and maybe I was watching a little Supernatural before writing this). So, I thought, why not give this a shot? Enjoy!

* * *

When England came to him on the cusp of the evening, breath uneven and eyes wide, Prussia - head and right arm bound with still bloody bandages - said, casually:

"It looks like you've seen a ghost."

To which England, fighting to catch his breath, replied, "I have."

Right. Gilbert had forgotten that his cousin believed in such things. He quirked a mocking smile at the blonde, who only glared back.

"I'm serious," Arthur said, his words coming out fast and hushed, "a man on a white stead."

"That doesn't sound like much of a ghost to me," Prussia snickered. He moved to turn away, get a drink and rest, but Arthur snatched his collar, pulling their faces close. His green eyes glowed in the coming darkness.

"He held a bow, and wore a crown," England continued, and when he found confusion in Prussia's face, he narrowed his gaze, grew quieter, his voice barely a whisper now. "…and he turned, and bade me _'Come and See.'_ "

Realization came slowly to Gilbert as England released him, waiting for the German's reply. Prussia looked hard at him.

"That's just a story," he said, trying to convince himself as much as he was England.

"I know!" England shot back, still keeping quiet as if the Horseman would hear if he spoke too loudly, "but what reason have I to lie about something like that?"

The warrior leaned closer to the sailor, who still smelled of the sea's salt. He searched for any deception in his ally's face, but was met with only knitted brows and pursed lip. England - _the British Empire_ - was shaken.

"What did you do?"

Arthur was taken aback, and his face, pale, suddenly blossomed with a soft red, ashamed to answer with the obvious.

"What did I do?" he echoed, as if Prussia had asked the stupidest question he'd ever heard. And indeed he had. "I bloody well ran, that's what!"

* * *

It was years later, on the same evening, that anything like the white horseman was brought up again.

"I met War."

Arthur looked up, surprised to see Prussia after so long. They were fighting as allies again.

He smiled lightly at Gilbert, who didn't return it. His eyes, wild as they ever were, concealed the tale he wanted to tell. It didn't take England long to figure out that his friend wasn't speaking metaphorically.

"...I feel like a hypocrite for asking," England said at last, suddenly exhausted from the day's battles. His rifle was still in his hand as he spoke. "But, are you sure?"

Prussia nodded, and a queer little grin made it's way onto his face. He sat down on the trampled grass while England stood expectantly over him.

"I'd just driven France away, when _he_ came riding over. His horse was fucking_ red_, England," Prussia stated bitterly, "I don't think any of my men could see him, 'cause they just let him ride right over to me. Then he leered and said, _'Come and See.'_ "

England silently acknowledged this, and turned away. They were both tired, and deserved a reprieve. Prussia stood and dusted his uniform off, not that it did much good - already stained red and muddy brown.

"Did you go to him?"

Gilbert paused, looking slowly back to England. The Empire hadn't turned back around, only stood and waited for the answer he would never get.

* * *

It was very late at night, or very early in the morning. Prussia didn't care either way as he dragged himself out of bed, stomping to the front door of the home he shared with his younger brother. Germany had grown into a fine young nation - it was a shame to see him so easily led down the wrong path.

"What the fuck do you want?" Gilbert snarled, wrenching open the door after the desperate knocking hadn't stopped after five minutes. He wasn't surprised to see Arthur, who was now the United Kingdom if he wasn't mistaken, standing on the steps, drenched from rain back in his own country.

"Famine," he hissed, and Prussia ushered him inside.

They sat at the dining table, speaking quietly - this time not to avoid rousing Horsemen, but Gilbert's little brother. The German offered Arthur tea. He accepted beer instead.

"Do you really think this is happening?" Prussia asked, watching England try and drown the situation in his mug. He wanted to join the blonde, but found not the strength to do it. He stared into his own drink, their usual roles reversed.

"Should we… warn the others?" Was Arthur's reply. A resounding_ 'yes'_ without actually having to say the dreaded word. He added, quickly, 'just in case.'

"I think Austria already knows. He started praying a few months ago," Gilbert mused, tracing circles on the wooden table as England glared at him, probably for not being as disturbed about the whole thing as Arthur himself was. "I say we tell only a few people, and let the rest burn up."

"Are you crazy?" England snapped, his thick eyebrows twitching, and thus drawing Prussia's attention back to the man across from him. "That's cold-hearted, and I won't have it."

The two stared at each other for a while longer before Arthur huffed, gathered his coat and left just as the sun started to rise. Did they disagree only because they weren't fighting on the same side anymore?

* * *

Another war, and another loss for the German brothers. They sat together on their knees, hands tied behind their backs, as they awaited the victorious _Allies_ to arrive. It wasn't over yet, Germany had said to try and reassure himself. Japan was still fighting. Prussia - or, what was left of him - reminded him that Japan was fighting _alone._

The door opened rather roughly, announcing the arrival of the European Allies. England led them in. With just one somber look, instead of his cocksure grin, Prussia confirmed the isle's suspicions. Arthur strode fast over to the elder brother and struck him, a vicious right hook.

Ludwig screamed at him in German because he knew Arthur had picked it up long ago. Prussia looked up at his assailant, this time grinning for all he was worth, and met again with England's fist. His head snapped to the side, blood suddenly oozing from his nose. Still, he matched England's livid stare with a confident one. There were no regrets, and that only made the other nation angrier.

"You fucking bastard!" he cried, moving to hit Gilbert again when France caught him.

"Calm yourself, _Angleterre_," his neighbor warned. England ripped his arm from France's grip, rounding on him.

"_He-_" Arthur began, but cut himself short. He could see that France was angry. That Russia, despite seeming to enjoy the scene before him, was even more so. But it was not for the same reason he was.

England turned to Prussia again, mustering up the strength to accuse his old friend, now his enemy. Gilbert waited patiently and, worse, haughtily.

"You opened the Fifth Door yourself," Arthur snarled.

"_Ja._"

The other three nations in the room shared a moment of confusion. Germany looked to his brother and asked almost timidly, "what door?"

Gilbert looked back at him and smiled, his teeth colored red from the blood still trailing down his lips. He smiled, and noted sadly that Germany had so many frown lines, it made him look so much older than he should.

* * *

"Death came to me," Prussia said, his ruby eyes twinkling, "and told me I was going to die." He turned back to England, showing the other something similar to a sneer, "...and I don't want to die alone."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** In case you haven't guessed, this is a story about the Apocalypse!

According to the Bible, there are seven seals that need to be broken before the Apocalypse happens.  
The first four seals contain the Horsemen; shown here as Conquest, War, Famine and Death. I didn't name Conquest in the story because some like to see him as Pestilence or Strife instead. The fifth seal that England talks about, is the Vision of Martyrs.

1. Seven Years' War opens the first Horsemen's door_, "and he rode out as a conqueror bent on Conquest."_  
2. The Napoleonic Wars open the second Horsemen's door, and he_ "was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other."_  
3. Great Depression/Holodomor opens the third Horsemen's door, and _"his hunger will seep out and poison the air."_  
4. World War II opens the fourth Horsemen's door, and "_its rider was named Death, and Hell was following close behind him."  
_5. The Holocaust opens the fifth door, _"a vision of those that were slain for the word of God."  
_

So, yeah. Again not really trying to insult anyone with the Biblical overtones. Either way, leave a review!_  
_


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